


Hymn

by sanctuary_for_all



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Family, Fluff, Having Faith, M/M, Meeting the Father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4069183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy finally meets Father Lantom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hymn

Foggy understood religion, but he could never really _understand_ it.

His parents were lapsed Unitarians, and the closest thing he’d had to any kind of religious instruction growing up was “be kind to people.”  As life rules went it was a pretty solid one, and Foggy had always thought that if you did the best you could to follow it the rest usually ended up sorting itself out.

Matt, though…. For all that he never seemed to go to Mass much, Catholicism had wrapped itself deep enough into his best friend’s bones that it worried Foggy once or twice. If there was anyone who should be kept away from stories about martyrs it was Matt, and the guy was good enough at piling guilt on his head not to need any help from an organized religion.

But it was important to Matt, and so by default it had to become important to Foggy. Especially now that neither of them had any more reasons to keep up any safety barriers – all the secrets were out between them, and they’d both given Foggy that much more of a reason to steal every second with Matt that he could.

And hey, Catholicism was small potatoes compared to the incredibly dangerous, at-least-mildly-hypocritical vigilante lawyer thing. If he could wrap his head around that, getting more involved in Matt’s faith shouldn’t be a problem.

000

He was nervous. Why in the world was he nervous?

“Even if he really doesn’t agree with the whole ‘all non-straight people go to hell’ thing, he still might not like me,” Foggy warned Matt as they stepped through the front doors of Matt’s church. “I probably kind of radiate not-Catholic.”

Matt just smiled. “Everyone likes you except criminals, Foggy. I can’t imagine Father Lantom being the exception.”

Still, Foggy hesitated before stepping through the doors of the chapel. He finally realized what was wrong – Matt didn’t have any parents left, and Matt had met Foggy’s so long ago that he had a standing invite to all major and minor family events. But Matt’s priest was important to him, had let him come and talk about things he was worried about that he couldn’t really share with anyone else. This guy mattered, and if he didn’t like Foggy it would make things harder for Matt.

 _Everything_ always made things harder for Matt. Usually, Foggy tried like hell to be an exception to the rule.

And he should probably not be swearing in a church, now that he thought about it.

“But he might,” Foggy repeated, even more worried now. “Just … be ready for that, okay?”

Matt tightened his arm around Foggy’s. He’d started offering Matt his arm again in public – for cover, Foggy had told himself at the time – but after Matt admitted it made him feel loved they did it all the time now. “Even if he doesn’t like you, it won’t matter to me,” he said quietly. “But he will like you. So stop worrying.”

Foggy let out a breath, his only response as they stepped into the chapel. He looked around, a little surprised at how normal it looked. Apparently, the big cathedrals kind of screwed up people’s perceptions of how Catholics spent their Sundays. “It’s nice,” he said finally. “A little somber, but nice.”

Matt smiled a little. “I’ve always found it a little dark for my tastes.”

“Hah.” Foggy’s own lips curved upward briefly as his nerves settled somewhat. He settled them more by letting himself just watch Matt for a moment. There was a surprisingly peaceful expression on Matt’s face, like he was just soaking in the church’s ambiance or something. It was a nice look on him.

“I’d come with you, if you wanted to go to Mass one Sunday,” he said finally, not sure he was going to actually say the words until they’d come all the way out of his mouth. Matt looked startled by the offer, and Foggy fumbled briefly. “I mean, if the lack of company’s what’s keeping you away.”

Matt didn’t say anything for a moment, clearly caught without a response. His expression made it clear how touched he was, but there was also some guilt and that good old self-punishment clearly creeping in there. “I … thank you, Foggy,” he managed. “But that’s not….” He stopped, tried again. “I don’t really feel like I should be….”

He had a terrible feeling he knew where Matt was going with this. “Here with all the nice Catholics?” Foggy finished, chest tight at the thought that Matt felt like he had to hide even here.

Matt sighed. “Pretty much.”

“Well, that’s just stupid.” Foggy lifted his hand to cover Matt’s. “This Father Lantom guy clearly likes you enough to try and keep you from beating yourself up any more than you already do, which should be enough of a pass for anybody. If he thinks you deserve to show up here for the random chats you two have, he’d probably be happy to see you Sundays.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

They both turned at the sound of the new voice, which belonged to an older man wearing a priest’s collar and the kind-but-knowing expression that on teachers always meant that they could see right through you but thought you were worth something anyway. The priest smiled, holding out his hand. “I’m Father Lantom. You must be Foggy.”

It took Foggy a second to collect himself. “That I am.” Giving Matt a firm nudge to the side for not warning him someone was coming – that little smile probably meant he’d known exactly what he was doing – Foggy shook the priest’s hand. “Matt’s told me a lot about you.”

“Now, I can’t quite believe that. In my experience, Matt doesn’t say much about anyone.” Father Lantom shot Matt a wryly amused look.

Matt actually looked faintly embarrassed. “It’s … complicated.”

“I’m sure it is,” Father Lantom said, his tone clearly humoring as he turned back to Foggy. “But the first time I saw Matt smile in a very long time was when he came to ask me if I thought sleeping with a man was enough to send someone to hell. Since hell’s never been that cheerful a topic for him before, it was pretty clear you were the reason for the smile. I’ve wanted to meet you ever since.”

Foggy could only stare at him for a moment. This was most _definitely_ not what he’d expected out of a Catholic priest, no matter how awesome Matt had said he was. “I think I kind of love you.”

Father Lantom just smiled. “The world could always use a little more love in it. _Both_ of you are welcome at Sunday Mass at any time.”

“You know that was directed at you, right, Matt?” Foggy said, smiling back at him.

“Yes,” Matt said, clearly amused. “I did pick up on that incredibly subtle conversational cue.”

Father Lantom clapped him on the shoulder. “God welcomes all the assistance He can get when he passes messages onto his children.”

Foggy laughed. “Well, just let me know when you want me to shout at him.”

“I will.” Then Father Lantom’s expression sobered. “And if you ever need to talk to me, about anything, know that I’m here for you as well. The seal of the confessional is open to anyone, and can hold the weight of even the heaviest troubles.” He gestured his head toward Matt a little. “You’re doing the Lord’s work with this one. Let Him offer you an understanding ear if you need it.”

Foggy blinked, too thrown to come up with a response, and Matt nudged him gently in the side. “He means it,” he said quietly.

Father Lantom nodded. “I do.”

Touched, it took Foggy a moment to find actual words. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” he managed finally.

Father Lantom smiled again. “You do that.” Then he squeezed Matt’s hand. “I’m serious about Mass, Matthew.”

Matt smiled. “I know. And thank you.”

After he left, Foggy turned to Matt. “So you two have been conspiring for my mental health?”

“A little.” Matt squeezed his arm again as they left the church. “And I’ll think about Mass.”

Foggy squeezed back. “You do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my weekly posts and original short fiction on my [blog](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


End file.
